A Halloween Murder
by MaidenofIron157
Summary: Izzy Of the Total Drama series is more than meets the eye. PLEASE READ. PLEASE. Sorry, begging, darn...
1. The Story

*My first story on here. Summary: Izzy of the Total Drama series is more than meets the eye. She's crazy, sure, and has blown up a few things in the past, of course. She's even made friends with beavers! But did you know she lives with a mental asylum escapee, and has for half her life?*

A small seven year old girl was running down the street as fast as humanly possible. Hot tears were streaming freely down her face, her wild, frizzy, flaming red hair billowing in front of her peircing, neon green eyes, slightly obscuring her vision. Her name was Izabel, Izabel Porrin, and she was in threat of her life.

Izabel, nicknamed Izzy by her peers, was quite plainly terrified. She was being chased by a man in a durag, his breath reeking fouly of alchohol. She had only run away from her single mother's home a week ago, then met up with a haggard outside a bar in passing that day. He had tried to lure her into an alleyway for things she didn't know of, but she had refused, causing the man to grow angry and lash out at her. She had ran, and still is, the man cat- calling her from behind.

As if she hadn't been through enough stress, now having to deal with a drunk on her tail. As I had told you, She had run away from her mother's just a week before. She didn't drink, but abused her greatly, and threatened her life more than once. She hardly cared for her safety.

And Izzy ran, her darkened surroundings whizzing past in fuzzy shadows, the streetlights guiding her. Her knee length jade green dress was frayed and faded, indicating she'd had it for some time. She had on pink balley flats, and a yellow headband unsuccessfully holding back her massive onslaught of hair.

She turned a corner sharply, looking back over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the man still chasing her, That's when she stopped dead on, running into something feeling like a brick wall.


	2. The Man in the Mask

Izzy pushed herself off whatever it was, looking up to see it was a very tall, burly man wearing a navy blue jumpsuit with a nametag labeled, "MYERS". He had a white, expressionless mask concealing his face, and unkept shaggy deep brown hair sticking out and sleaked back in snarls and knots upon snarls and knots. She couldn't see his eyes considering the mask's eye socket's were pitch black. he was mysterious.

"AH! Dere you are you wittle- hic!- bitch!" a slurred voice shouted, and Izzy whipped around, only to see the man with the durag closing in closer, closer. A half- empty beer bottle was in his hand, and a lustful smile upon his lips, teeth yellow with rot and breath smelling of sick alchohol.

Izzy backed up against the mask- adorning man, gripping his jumpsuit in fear with her fists weakly, a terrified whimper escaping her throat as salty tears stained her cheeks.

--

The man, Michael Myers, tilted his head down to glance at the girl. he saw she was afraid, but also noticed it wasn't of him; it was of the other man, just a few yards down. Why she wasn't afraid of him Michael didn't know, but he didn't neccassarily care at the moment. All that technicall mattered right then was helping this little girl and getting her to safety.

Why? God only knows. He's killed dozens of people, mostly those related to himself. So why did he want to save an orphan girl, whom would probaly scream if he touched her.

--

The man grinned a sick, twisted, drinken grin as he watched Izzy tremble and cower in fear, clinging to Michael like a skull to crossbones. "Here, here, ya little half- wit..." he said in and alluring tone, motioning with two fingers for Izzy to come.

She shook her head vigorously, tendrils of curly hair falling in her eyes. She didn't bother to be rid of them, considering she could still see, and clutched Michael's jumpsuit feebley. He remained still and cold, staring at her. 


	3. The Savior

Michael looked up to the man with a raising head, catching the glare and look of disgust cross his features. He stuck his free hand in his leather jacket's pocket, chain belt rattling in the motion's wake. Out he pulled a swiss army knife, blade glinting in the moonlight of Halloween.

In the darkness the man swung at Izzy with the knife, causing her to cover her arms with her head and scream. Michael grabbed hold of his wrist with inhuman agility, twisting it at such an angle it was painful. His grip was so tight and twist so strong there was a loud CRACK, then a shrill shriek of utmost agony and bone jutting from skin with blood pouring to the concrete ground.

Michael pushed him down, hard, making his spine collide with a sickening SNAP. Like his wrist, it had broken, and instantly killed him.

Izzy dare to sneak a peek, sighting the man's dead body and cautiously removing her arms from her head, biting her lip to keep it from quivering in fear; she didn't believe he was dead.

She looked up to the unemotional Michael. "Did you do him in?" she asked politely, hope shining in her eyes. Michael lowered his head to look to her, and nodded only once.

Izzy beamed with a bright smile. "Really?" Michael nodded again, making Izzy spin around and wrap herfrail arms around one of his legs, hugging him tightly. She was no longer crying.

After being fairly suprised Michael bent down, gently picking her up and setting her lightly on his shoulders. She crossed her arms atop his head, keeping her balance.

With that Michael turned, lumbering back down the sidewalk toward the old, withering house at the end of the street; the Myers' House. 


	4. His Holiday

"Excuse me but," Izzy began as Michael placed her on his old bed. "What's you name? I'm Izabel, but everyone calls me Izzy."

Michael straightened up, and glanced around for something to write with and on. After finding a cobweb encased pen and a dost tombed notepad he quickly cleaned them off and scrawled out, "Michael".

Luckily, Izzy did know how to read. She smiled sweetly to the masked murderer, then noticing the massive amount of blood on his somewhat janitorial uniform, his knife tucked safely in one of the many pockets out of sight.

She frowned in curiousity as her eyes glazed over the deep liquid and ilnumeral number of scratches that had torn into the dark fabric, making Michael look down to his ragged clothing. He spotted the blood and mentally cursed himself for having the girl see it. She would think him a monster as everyone else now...

"Gosh, Mike, what happened? Did you get in a fight?" Izzy questioned, concern thick in her tone, causing Michael to snap his head up to look at her quizzically, obviously puzzled that she wasn't screaming and TRYING to run to freedom.

Though his face was hidden Izzy read his expression, even if she couldn't see it. Sitting upright he hugged her knees loosely to her chest, a smile on her face with half- lidded eyes.

"Mike, I've seen and been through worse," Izzy admitted. "You saved me from that creep that was after me, and I totally owe you for it." Her eyes then flickered to the ripped, bloody material, and she grimaced. "But... you look really bad." She looked up to Michael. "Did you get in a fight?"

Michael shook his head faintly, then softly pushed her shoulder. Izzy got the message, and layed back down, her head colliding with the stale pillow of the bed. An exhausted yawn escaped her lips as Michael pulled the covers over her, Izzy snuggling into them for warmth and almost instantly falling into subconsiousness. A light smile was place on her features.

Michael stood back up to his full height, turned on his heel, and left the room swiftly. He pulled out his dry blood caked kitchen knife, looking at his reflection as the moon shone through a smudged window, making it glimmer in the silver light.

And without a word he traveled down the creaking steps (each stair moaning pleas of the sudden weight embarked upon them) and right out the open front door, cocking his head side to side. He walked off the porchm down the pathm onto the sidewalk.

Spotting a lone trick- or- treater in a superhero costume complete with a cape digging greedily through his bag of sweets he began hunting his next unlucky, unfortunate victim.

After all, Halloween is his holiday. 


	5. The Trespassers

Izzy jolted up rim- rod straight in the bed, panting with cold sweat drenching her hair and clothing, drizzling down her face. Her eyes flashed this way and that, looking for something unknown in the now sunlight filled room, dust shimmering in the air.

It was dawn, and quiet. Too quiet.

Catching her breath she tightly closed her eyes, trying to rid the images of the man with the durag closing in on her from her nightmare. It was terrifying.

Then something caught her attention: a noise. Loud, echoing voices coming from downstairs. Looking around for a defensive weapon she spotted a sharp edged piece of broken glass. It was about half an inch thick, and appeared to be from the window beside the bed that was letting the sunlight pour inside.

Scooping it up off the top of the messy dresser she kicked the dirty sheets to the end of the bed, heaving herself gradually to the old carpet.

Curling her fingers aound the glass she tip toed to the slightly ajar door, pushing the rotting wood open with it creaking in the sudden movement. The voices grew more audible and clear.

"Kristian! You know we shouldn't be here!" a girl's voice hissed with fear.

Kristian chuckled. "C'mon, babe! Live a little!

The girl scoffed as Izzy smoothly proceeded down the stairs. When she neared the bottom she halted, and peered out into the kitchen. Standing near the counter was a tall brunette boy with his arm placed over a blonde girl's shoulders, a grin on his face while hers was etched in panic.

"Live a little?! LIVE A LITTLE?!" the girl whispered ecstatically, clinging to Kristian as if her life depended on it- which, it technically did. "Are you fucking insane?!"

Kristian siched at his girlfriend's anxiety. "Elaina-"

"No! Don't even!" Elaina snapped with a glare. "You know who lives here! He's going to kill us!"

Izzy froze as Kristian retorted in a laid back tone, "Relax, sweetheart. That freak Michael-" Izzy took a sharp let silent intake of breath, muscles tensing under skin, heart pounding in her eardrums, fingers tightly gripping the glass so hard her knuckles were white.

"-ain't gunna lay a hand on us," Kristian finished.

"Promise?" Elaina asked.

"Promise," Kristian swore. Abruptedly the open back door slammed shut, making both jump about a foot in suprise and Izzy smirk deviously.

He might have hurt people, but he didn't hurt me, she thought. He saved me from that scary man. He must have reason. These people shouldn't be here. It's Mike's home, not their's.

In one quick movement she leaped down the last four steps onto the floor, straightened up, reared her glass weilding arm back like a baseball pitcher, and threw it directly at Elaina.

It punctured her forehead and cracked through her skull, penetrating her brain. She went limp and fell to the floor in a dead heap of her own blood.

"Elaina!" Kristian cried, staring wide- eyed in shock at her dead figure. He then cleched his fists and scowled feircly at Izzy, who was standing her ground with determination.

"You killed her you little brat!" Kristian screamed, lunging at her. What happened next happened so fast neither knew what the cause was until afterward. 


	6. The Proposition

Michael had heard the commotion and came to find out what it was before whatever it was got to Izzy. Traveling downstairs at a fast pace he caught sight of Izzy pegging the girl with the glass and pulled out his knife to do away with the boy.

When Kristian pounced at Izzy and she didn't react Michael landed on the strudy floor behind her and swung his knife at him. It met Kristian's arm's skin and left a deep gash, causing him to shriek in pain and stumble back, falling onto his back to the floor.

Izzy raised her head, looking at Michael expectantly as though he'd run away. Nothing of the sort happened, however, for the masked killer took one step foward in front of Izzy, preparing to protect her no matter the cost.

Kristian grabbed his arm, the scrape now bleeding profusely. He ignored Michael completely, and glared furious daggers at Izzy. She peeked aound Michael's legs, catching his eye and narrowing her own.

"Get out of Mike's house, you meanie!" she told him as he got to his feet, towering over her though dwarfing to Michael. He still took no notice to the taller.

"Make me, you sick bitch!" Kristian spat, Izzy just glaring. She felt the anger and rage radiating off Michael, and knew he was obviously disliking Kristian calling her- whatever he did. Izzy didn't know what 'bitch' meant. Michael did, and it made him beyond furious. Izzy surmised it was a bad word.

Yet again, Kristian ignored Michael, ultimately being a fatal mistake. He lunged at Izzy once more, and Michael shoved his knife deep into his open gut.

Kristian screamed, and choked up blood as said liquid trickled down Michael's knife's blade, staining his bare hand as it poured and sloshed on the kitchen's tiled floor. He went limp, and Michael slid him off the blade, him falling to the floor next to his dead girlfriend. Both their eyes were rolled upward so far you couldn't see color, only white.

Izzy came out from behind Michael and scowled at their dead bodies, kicking Elaina as hard as she could in the chest. Looking back to Michael she smiled happily, and went back over to him as he watched her movements carefully.

"That was so cool, Mike!" she admitted. "You were so brave! Where'd you learn ta do that?" Michael shrugged. "Can you teach me?"

That got him thinking. He had saved Izzy twice, and was WILLINGLY letting her stay in his home. Why? That was still a mystery to him. He shouldn't be trusting her, he should kill her right now and get it over with.

Then again... he could use an apprentice. There's not many people who go around saying, "I wanna learn how ta kill people. Can you help?"

Making over his mind he nodded. 


	7. The Revenge

One year has now passed and it was the day just before Halloween in Haddonfield, near sundown. The now eight year old Izzy was hanging by her knees upsidown on a metal bar in the school's playground. Instead of the ratty old green dress she used to wear she was now wearing a black denim capris held up to her waist by a studded belt, a bright green spagetti strap tanktop with a yellow butterfly on it, and brown sandles. Her bright hair was pulled back in a messy braid, and a stitched together jade green wristband was securely on her wrist as a gift from Michael for her birthday.

She had her eyes closed with and expressionless face; she was meditating.

"Yo, freakazoid!" a male's voice called to her, making her eyes snap open as her revere broke in two. She glared toward the source with utterly loathsome eyes as the owner walked up, a smirk on his face. Two others were behind him; his cronies.

Izzy swung her torso up, taking hold of the handle bar and skillfully leaping off it, landing softly on the mulch covered ground. She turned to him, sticking her hands in her pockets. Her fingers wound tightly around the hilt of the kitchen knife Michael had given to her for defense and protection, thankfully having it small enough as to not have the sharpened edges of the blade tear through the denim material.

"What?" she asked venomously, scowling feircly at him and his friends. "I HAPPENED to be doing something when you RUDELY interupted, Tony."

Tony just grinned wider, his many freckles showing clearly on his tanned skin. "Oh c'mon, don't be so mean."

"I can be mean all I want!" Izzy snapped with a harsh glare, hatting him dearly. "What. Do you want?" she repeated vehemently.

Tony's grin didn't falter, and his cronies cackled. "I just wanted ta know whatchu were goin' as fer Halloween," he stated with a shrug escaping his shoulders.

Izzy rolled her eyes, mumbling, "Mmhmm."

"I bet she's gunna be a hooker, haha!" the red haired cronie laughed, clutching his stomach and pointing.

"No way! She's going as a lonny bin patient freak, you dolt!" the dark haired said joyfully, high fiving the other.

Izzy growled with clenched teeth, "I'm not going out for Halloween, you morons!" she told them in a chilling tone. "I'm helping my friend with something!"

"And who's yer friend?" Tony questioned cockily. "Oh- right- you have none!" Then the trio burst into an explosion of laughter.

Izzy snarled furiously, and whipped out her knife, swinging it at Tony's face with every ounce of strength she had. It collided with the skin and brought multiple waves of blood streaming like a dark waterfall down his face, staining his clothes and the green grass he was standing on.

He screamed and clutched the peeling, bleeding skin feebley, collapsing to the ground. The other two looked to her, aghast, mouths agape and eyes wide in utmost terror.

Izzy lifted her knife, studying it as a girl would her nails with half interest at Tony's blood now smeared on the blade. She looked up to them, eyes gleaming and glinting in revenge.

A wretched, evil, twisted smirk played at the corners of her lips in a devilish way. "Who's next?" 


End file.
